


Down Along the Creek

by aliatori, roadsoftrial



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Emotional Sex, M/M, seriously this is just soft but Cor deserves it, two men who've seen some shit in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-09-13 06:45:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16887609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aliatori/pseuds/aliatori, https://archiveofourown.org/users/roadsoftrial/pseuds/roadsoftrial
Summary: Gladio and Cor find relief from a summer heatwave in the cool waters of a lake.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for day 5 of Cor Leonis week for the prompt "light in the darkness."

Cor wakes up in the dead of night, hot, sweaty and offensively uncomfortable. Whether it’s the relentless heat wave that’s been plaguing them for the past three days, the bright glow from the full moon, eerily large and luminous, drowning the room through the open curtain, or the emptiness right next to him where Gladio had fallen asleep a few hours ago, Cor isn’t quite certain what pulled him from his sleep, but he does know laying any longer in the sweat-dampened sheets desperately clinging to his body isn’t an option. He kicks them as far as he can and makes his way to the kitchen, in search of a tall glass of cold water and, hopefully, Gladio.

It has been some time since he’s awakened to an empty bed this way, and the fact that Gladio’s absence doesn’t fill him with an overwhelming sense of dread anymore comes as a relief. _Those days are over_ , he needs to remind himself every once in a while. They’d been through hell for the first ten years of their shared life, then through a very different, much more visceral and cruel kind of nightmare for the following two, two years during which Cor had been made to watch as Gladio slowly slipped through his fingers, unwilling to hold on, unable to wake up. Gladio’s pain (a pain Cor understands all too well) had demanded to be felt, and Gladio had indulged it through and through.

(Cor also understands how grim, how hopeless things can seem, when standing where Gladio had stood, how impossible it feels to try and bring yourself back towards daylight when the mere thought of it is enough to make you bask in darkness until it consumes you.) 

But those days are behind them now. 

Life has been soft to them, of late, kind, even, a silent acknowledgement that their duties to this universe have been more than fulfilled, that they’ve done enough, that they’re allowed to rest, now, to sprawl in the sunlight without questioning whether they deserve it or not.

(Cor has never been an optimist, but for the first time in his life, he isn’t compelled to count the days until the storm that always accompanies the calm inevitably rears its ugly head like it has so many time before, and the fact that he was able to shed this lifelong habit so easily is a small blessing all on its own.)

There’s no sign of Gladio in the kitchen, so he pours himself a glass of water and sips it as he scouts his surroundings, waiting for a movement, a sound that’ll clue him in on Gladio’s whereabouts. He’s rewarded seconds later when he hears water stirring from the lake a few paces away from their cabin. The sloshing of the water, the weight of the movement convinces Cor it can be none other than Gladio causing the disturbance. He peeks out the window and, as expected, finds a large, Gladio-shaped figure in the shallow end of the lake. Cor downs the rest of his water in one gulp, leaves his glass at the bottom of the sink and goes for the door, a smirk spreading on his lips before he’s even realised it.

He walks slowly, without haste or purpose, the sharp moonlight guiding his bare feet through the long, damp grass. He walks all the way to the end of the wooden dock (and doesn’t fail to notice the various clothes Gladio’s discarded on his way to the water, briefs included). He sits at its edge, both feet meeting the cool water with relief, and he feels his entire body relax from the soothing sensation. From his vantage point, he has front row seats to the show Gladio is giving to no one in particular, and what a sight it is. He lets himself float leisurely, his long hair spreading around him like a halo of silver in the moonlight. His eyes remain closed, a serene look lingering on his face, one that Cor has been able to observe more and more these days, and a wave of affection crashes over him at the mere thought. When Gladio finally opens his eyes and notices Cor, he seems all too smug that he’s been able to lure him with his siren dance alone, and he throws the cheekiest of smiles in Cor’s direction as he swims towards the dock.

“Hey. Did I wake you?” Gladio asks as he reaches Cor, settling between his parted thighs and propping himself up with both hands to press a chaste kiss against Cor’s lips. 

“Was just wondering where you’d gone.”

“Sorry, I was dying in there,” he chuckles.

Cor huffs and tries to come up with a snarky response to fling his way, but the words die on his lips as Gladio leans back to comb the wet hair out of his eyes, his movements free and graceful and entirely too enticing. Cor gets to his feet, eyes still locked onto Gladio, who doesn’t miss any of it, who takes the unspoken challenge for what it is, pulling and stretching his arms and back without restraint, the water flapping dangerously low around his naked hips. 

“You coming in?” he taunts when Cor doesn’t move, and while Cor would normally take playful offense in the boldness of his question, there’s _something_ about Gladio, something that softens Cor up, somehow, something that almost makes him give in without a fight, until another, louder (younger, perhaps) part of him grows curious to see what trick Gladio has under his belt, and so he remains silent, a slight cock of his eyebrow proving sufficient to make Gladio take on the challenge. He walks back up to Cor, eyes dark and determined. He sets both hands at Cor’s feet, careful not to touch him, and Cor can’t quite explain why he’s so disappointed at the avoided contact. Gladio says nothing, drags on this quiet standoff of theirs as he waits for Cor to yield, as he takes him apart with nothing but his deep, hungry eyes. 

And somehow, it works.

He’s not quite sure what tips him over the edge. Maybe it’s the heat, maybe it’s the radiance of the moon pouring its bright silver light over the small plot of wooden land they get to call home, all over the soft ripples of the water, all over Gladio, casting sharp shadows that highlight the bulk of his body and all the numerous scars carved all across his skin, deep, some still tender at times, like a permanent reminder of the thorns that tried to rip him to shreds, of the fact that he survived, that he’s still alive, that he’s still living. He isn’t quite sure what it is, but the spectacle before his eyes entice him to surrender all of himself to Gladio. Giving in to the impulse, he takes his t-shirt off and tosses it carelessly towards the land, and the genuine glee in Gladio’s eyes prompts a familiar warmth in the pit of his stomach that makes it all worth it.

It’s all Gladio needs to send his plan into motion. Cor feels Gladio’s cool, wet fingers climb their way up his naked legs, lighter, swifter than their size would suggest, and they’re resting on top of Cor’s thighs before long, a silent plea for permission to continue their ascension, to get to where he’s really trying to reach. 

Cor chuckles quietly, his thumb brushing against Gladio’s bottom lip before tugging lightly at his chin, taking in the bold temptation in his eyes, trying their damnedest to make him yield, to convince him to jump in, to indulge with Gladio in this nighttime escapade. And gods, is it working. 

Cor reluctantly lets go of Gladio’s jaw and slides both of his hands on top of Gladio’s, their eyes locked as he tugs at the younger man’s wrists, a silent invitation to continue with his exploration. A soft grin spreads across Gladio’s lips, and Cor can’t resist smiling back at the sight. Deft fingers continue their exploration, brushing against each of his scars, resting at the commissure of thighs and hips, taking in the size of him with that almost chaste fascination of his that’s always been so endearing to Cor’s eyes. Gladio finally reaches what he was aiming for, sliding the palm of his hands across Cor’s pelvis before hooking his fingers to the band of his underwear and tugging at it, light and playful, until the fabric pools at his feet. Gladio presents a hand that Cor accepts after a second of hesitation and a quiet snort, wondering when Gladio became such a hopeless romantic (or when he stopped trying to hide it from him), wondering when he started loving Gladio even more for allowing himself to give in to these impulses after so many years. Cor lifts one foot, then the next, his weight resting against Gladio’s sturdy hand while Gladio grabs the underwear with his free hand and throws it towards the rest of their clothes without a care.

Cor’s never been one to enable or participate in Gladio’s exhibitionist tendencies, but the way he looks at him right then and there, like a prize, like a treasure he’s laying his eyes on for the very first time, makes him understand the appeal. 

Gladio shakes his head after long seconds of devouring every single inch of Cor’s body with glistening eyes, remembering what he was going to do before he got carried away. Before Cor can stop him, both of Gladio’s arms are tightened around his waist, and he shifts his weight, pulling him into the water without warning, a loud splashing sound tearing through the night’s peacefulness. 

Gladio doesn’t let go as they resurface, keeps his arms locked into place, and Cor can’t find the will to fight it. There’s something ethereal about the whole situation, something faint but intoxicating and soft and sweet, something that makes him want to wallow in this moment, to make it last, something that makes him want to lose himself in the gleam of Gladio’s eyes, to sink his fingers in the long strands of his graying hair, to explore every nook and cranny across Gladio’s skin with the tip of his fingers, to get lost in the stories they tell, stories he’s heard before, stories he’s lived at his side, stories he’ll never tire of hearing, stories that shaped him, that shaped them, stories that brought them to where they are today, old and tired and melting into each like two fools in love.

Cor is thankful for all of it. For the hardships that brought them together, for the darkness, for the dawn, for this night, for this overwhelming summer heat, for the moon blessing them with its cool light, for the chill of the water flapping around their bodies as Cor’s legs tighten around Gladio’s hips, as he props himself up to take in all of Gladio with hungry eyes, as he kisses him, unhurried, deep and fond and languorous, as a thank you for this moment, for this life. 

Cor doesn’t want it to end, but it has to, eventually. A shiver courses through his entire body as he opens his eyes at last. Gladio’s gaze is misty, half in astonishment, half in lust. Cor becomes pliant under his hands, ready to let him take over, to let Gladio do as he pleases with him, because at this moment, there’s nothing he could do that Cor wouldn’t accept with open arms. 

“Ready to go?” Gladio whispers, and Cor leans his forehead against Gladio’s, takes a moment to bask in their closeness, in the strength of the arms carrying him, in the beauty of this private moment they have the privilege of sharing.

He closes his eyes, exhales deeply and nods against the warmth of Gladio’s skin.


	2. Chapter 2

Gladio can count on one hand the number of times Cor has let him carry him, and count he does, mentally ticking one finger off as he trudges along the muddy lake bottom, Cor in tow. The sweltering, dry night evaporates the water from Gladio’s skin almost instantly, making the ambient temperature pleasantly cool instead of frigid as it might otherwise be. But he doesn’t really care about the heat wave, not now, not with the solid weight of Cor in his arms, not with Cor’s legs wrapped around his waist, not with Cor’s tongue sliding against his own in a languid kiss, not with the stiff, hot length of his cock pressed against Gladio’s stomach.

When he carried the two of them out of the soothing waters of the lake, he imagined hauling Cor all the way to their cabin—if, as Iggy is fond of remarking, you can truly call their home a cabin in earnest. There’s something about the spontaneity of the night that gives Gladio pause.

Gladio draws away from Cor for a moment and makes eye contact with him, eyes pale blue and breathtaking in the moonlight. “House is far. Grass is soft. And close.”

Cor’s gaze takes on a wary glint, a glint that melts away into soft nothingness as he continues to meet Gladio’s eyes. “Really?”

“It’ll be nice,” Gladio rumbles, nuzzling his face into Cor’s neck as best he can given the fact he’s supporting all six feet, two inches of him.

“What will the neighbors say?” Cor snarks, and it’s the snark that serves as permission, along with the sharp exhale Cor gives when Gladio grazes his teeth along the underside of Cor’s jaw.

“We don’t have neighbors, but if we did, they’d thank us for the show,” Gladio counters, capturing Cor’s lips in another kiss, delighting in the way Cor yields to him, again and again. 

All of this… the skinny dipping, the trust, the beautiful night with the moon bright and brilliant overhead… Gladio considers a gift. Cor has been unfailingly patient with him for nearly two entire years, firm when he needed to be and understanding when it was called for. If you had asked Gladio over a decade ago where he thought he’d be, it certainly wouldn’t be here with Cor, among the reeds lining the lake outside their cabin, an idyllic retirement from the death and strife that have followed both of them, naked as the day he was born and desire coursing through his veins.

Gladio wants to show Cor he’s back from the shadowed path he traveled after Noct’s death, back from risky hunts and bloody knuckles and days spent trapped in painful memories, that he followed Cor’s light to escape from two years of darkness—that he’s so grateful to be home.

That home will _always_ include Cor, no matter where the rest of their lives take them.

“You’ve got that poetic look in your eye,” Cor says, a subtle smirk curving one corner of his lips upward, a delicate web of fine lines following in its wake.

“Poetry ain’t exactly what I have in mind.”

At the words, Cor lifts his brows ever so slightly, a silent demand— _well, get to it, then_ —and Gladio is all too happy to oblige. Once they’re clear of the lakeshore and the reeds, Gladio kneels down, repositioning his hands to support Cor’s back as he eases him gently down to the ground.

Cor gives him a _look_ that clearly suggests he’s reaching the end of his patience with Gladio’s romantic overtures, but he doesn’t _say_ anything, just rests his weight on his elbows and watches Gladio expectantly.

Gladio takes his sweet, sweet time.

It’s rare he gets the chance to _admire_ Cor like this. In fact, Gladio’s never quite seen Cor in this state, naked and stretched out on the grass before him. As he drinks Cor in, he takes the time to enjoy all the subtle differences time has wrought. The most obvious is the close cropped hair, all of it greyed and darkened by their midnight sojourn into the lake. The years—and Cor’s need to stay active, taking hunts alongside Gladio and solo swims in the lake—have treated Cor’s body kindly, but Gladio relishes the way time has filled him out, given his lean and wiry muscle padding, softened the harsh line of his jaw, and created the suggestion of a paunch along his belly.

Inevitably, his eyes continue downward, admiring Cor’s cock, surrounded by a trimmed thatch of tight, grey curls and framed by muscular thighs. He’s still hard, the head of his erection flushing a familiar, ruddy red, and Gladio’s own arousal starts to stir with interest again.

“You going to stare or do something about this?” Cor asks drily. His sharp blue eyes, constant across the years, have gone half-lidded, his rock salt voice lower than usual.

Gladio licks his lips. “Oh, I’m gonna do something.” He grins at Cor and adjusts his position, scooting lower down Cor’s side. Once he’s comfortable, he bends down and places one hand on Cor’s chest, urging him to lay flat on his back. “Relax, will ya?”

“Bold,” Cor murmurs, but he follows the inertia of Gladio’s hand until his back rests against the grass. When they first got together, Gladio never would have gotten away with this, would have ended up on his knees in one way or the other for Cor, but he supposes age has mellowed them both out. They’re still rough around the edges, sometimes, because two years of peace can’t take lifetimes of war away, but they’ve learned each other’s jagged places well enough to be gentle in the exploration of them.

“You like it,” Gladio says, bending down and placing a kiss below Cor’s navel, tantalizingly close to what he really wants, his cock twitching with need.

“Sometimes,” Cor admits, and if Gladio didn’t know better, he’d say Cor sounds almost _dreamy_ , distracted. He reaches for Gladio and moves the cascade of wet hair aside to curl a rough, worn hand along the back of Gladio’s neck.

The hand follows Gladio as he places his lips against Cor’s cock, pressing chaste kisses along the length of him, flicking his tongue out for teasing little licks as he works to cover every inch of Cor with his lips.

Cor tightens his grip on the back of Gladio’s neck as he works. Eventually, definition appears along Cor’s abs as he tenses, flexing his muscles involuntarily. “ _Gladio_.”

A bead of precome wells from Gladio’s cock and drips onto the grass as Cor says his name, all stern desire. It’s a glimpse of Cor when they first got together, when Gladio insisted on pushing every boundary and Cor insisted on reminding him of his place. It has the same effect on him, even now, many kings and sunrises and lifetimes away: raw need.

Gladio doesn’t warn Cor, just parts his lips and takes as much of Cor’s cock in his mouth as he can, delighting in the sharp gasp it earns him. Six, as many times as he’s done this, he never gets tired of the taste of Cor, of the heady, natural musk between his thighs, of the salty taste as Cor leaks into Gladio’s willing, waiting mouth. When he starts to bob his head up and down, flattening his tongue to provide extra sensation, Cor’s blunt nails dig into the back of Gladio’s neck and his hand guides him down, encouraging him to take more.

The novelty of it delights Gladio. Here Cor is, at Gladio’s mercy, naked beneath the moonlight and back curling into a subdued arch as Gladio sucks eagerly on his cock. A faint breeze coasts through the air, stirring the leafs of the numerous, towering trees around them, not enough to provide any relief from the pervasive heat. There’s a different kind of heat coiling in Gladio’s gut, one that intensifies as Cor openly moans, low and long and encouraging, spreading his powerful thighs as Gladio works.

Gladio pauses to look up at Cor, lips stretched around Cor’s swollen cock, to gauge his reaction. He finds Cor staring back at him, weight resting on one elbow and pupils swallowing the electric blue of his eyes.

“Don’t stop,” Cor says, voice a half octave lower than normal and strained. His dick jumps in Gladio’s mouth as their eyes meet, the contact as electric as the soft, warm skin of Cor between his lips.

Gladio doesn’t stop.

He increases his pace, moaning even as his mouth is full of Cor’s cock, his own erection painfully hard and in dire need of attention. Being out in the open, sucking Cor off in plain sight, it _works_ for Gladio in a way he never knew the depth of. He wasn’t joking when he told Cor they didn’t have neighbors, but if they did, he’d want them to be watching, to see how _good_ he is at pleasing Cor, how amazing Cor looks in the soft intensity of the full moon.

He’ll do anything Cor asks, always, and yet… he’s grateful for Cor’s indulgence in this, for letting Gladio have him by the lakeside on a gorgeous summer night. It’s unusual and wonderful in the same turn.

Cor’s hand moves from Gladio’s neck, his fingers threading into the wet strands of Gladio’s hair, his grip tighter than ever. He can feel Cor swelling in his mouth, growing harder and thicker along his tongue, can feel his own cock twitching and dribbling precome. Cor begins to moan, head tipped back to expose his prominent Adam’s apple and strong jaw, and the volume, the length, the _need_ in the sound threatens to push Gladio over the edge without ever touching himself.

“Gladio, Gladio, _Gladio,_ ” Cor rasps, his voice a low growl. He fists his hand in Gladio’s hair so hard that it hurts, but it’s a wanted hurt, a hurt that spurs Gladio onward, his motions wet and sloppy and eager as he hollows his cheeks each time he takes Cor in his mouth.

Cor’s ragged groan is the only warning Gladio gets before the tension in Cor’s body releases. He bucks his hips into Gladio’s mouth at the same time as he holds his head down, filling Gladio’s mouth with spurt after spurt of come. Gladio is content… no, delighted to be held in place and drink it all down, swallowing Cor’s finish down with each pulse, the salty taste of his release coating Gladio’s tongue and buzzing through his other senses.

Once Cor’s grip eases up, Gladio withdraws from Cor’s cock with a wet pop, watching as Cor comes down from his orgasm. It’s a wonderful sight to behold, a tremor coursing through Cor’s strong limbs, chest heaving as he works to catch his breath. It would be _really_ pushing his luck, but he wishes he could capture this moment in a picture, Cor blissful and spent beneath the open sky, a subdued twitch to his muscles as he comes down from the powerful force of his climax.

“Sounded like you enjoyed that,” Gladio remarks, grinning, all swagger and pride.

Cor’s gaze finds his again in the night, its usual sharpness dulled by post-coital haze. “I did,” he says, a new warmth to his voice, a warmth Cor has only expressed in recent years, after the daemons and darkness disappeared. His piercing blue eyes rove down to Gladio’s cock, still hanging hard and heavy between his legs. “Come here.”

Cor doesn’t need to ask twice—he never does. Gladio swings one leg over Cor’s waist so that one knee is on each side, digging into the soft grass beneath them. He distributes his weight evenly between his knees and elbows, laying atop Cor, keeping a modicum of distance between their bodies.

He can’t wait anymore. Gladio begins to touch himself at the same time as he finds Cor’s lips for a kiss; Cor meets him halfway, their tongues weaving together in a passionate, charged exchange. If Cor minds the taste of his own release in Gladio’s mouth, he doesn’t show it, huffing a sharp breath from his nose as they continue to kiss. It’s perfect, Cor’s perfect, the whole night is perfect, and the tight coil at the base of Gladio’s spine builds rapidly every time he strokes his cock. 

His thoughts repeat on a loop— _touch me, touch me, touch me_ —and, as always, Cor seems to read his mind. Gladio almost never needs to ask with Cor, and tonight proves no exception as Cor slides his hand between their bodies and takes hold of Gladio’s cock, wrapping his hand over Gladio’s own. At the touch, a wave of frisson blossoms across Gladio’s skin, the relief and pleasure of Cor’s touch a full body sensation. Everything feels intense, from the firmness of Cor’s lips on his own to the moonlight streaming down on their backs, each tiny stimulus building to a wonderful crescendo.

“ _Cor_ ,” Gladio rumbles, panting as they break apart. “Fuck, _fuck_ , Cor—” Gladio’s words are lost in an open moan of pleasure as Cor pushes Gladio’s hand aside, replacing it with his own.

He doesn’t know why he spirals so rapidly into orgasm so fast, but he does, Cor’s warm and rough hand stroking Gladio in a perfect rhythm. It might be the fact they’re out in the open by the lake they both love, it could be the fact that Cor indulged him in this midnight swim, it could be ever present and simple fact that he _loves_ Cor, that he owes his life to him, but whatever it is, Gladio is falling, the gravity of his body following the gravity of his heart.

“That’s it, Gladio, come on,” Cor murmurs, gripping Gladio’s cock more firmly, squeezing his thumb and forefinger around the head on each upward pass.

It’s enough. Cor is always enough.

When the pleasure reaches its zenith, when Gladio knows he’s about to tumble over the edge, he kisses Cor deep and hard, groaning into the kiss as his own climax overtakes him. He shakes and shudders and moans as he spills over Cor’s hand, onto his stomach, his body trembling with the sheer power of his climax. If Cor _looked_ blissed out earlier, Gladio feels it in every nerve of his body, a relief he hadn’t known possible until this very moment.

It’s difficult to keep his body upright after coming so hard, but Gladio breathes deep and true above Cor, trying to get his bearings, reorient himself after his world was turned upside down. The practical considerations come back to him, one by one, but the most pressing is that he’s made an utter mess of Cor, thick ropes of come messy and haphazard across his stomach. He meets Cor’s eyes with a grin.

“Another dip in the lake?” Gladio asks, the depth of his voice tempered by breathless innocence.

“You’re aware our shower is in perfect working order,” Cor says, but his hands belie his sarcasm, brushing Gladio’s hair over his shoulder and out of his face.

“Never know when there’s going to be another heatwave,” Gladio suggests, dipping his head down and kissing the hollow of Cor’s throat.

Of all the things Gladio might expect, he doesn’t expect the silk over gravel of Cor’s quiet laugh. The smile causes a chain reaction, lines erupting all over Cor’s face, followed by Gladio’s own laughter, bass upon bass, filling the midnight air with joy.

“Guess we could use the actual shower.”

“We could. And should.”

Gladio risks a glance at Cor, and the openness he finds waiting for him nearly undoes him. It’s been a long road of healing for both of them, but here they are, whole and happy, building a life together day by day, brick by brick.

Once he’s confident his knees won’t buckle under him, Gladio stands, offering a hand down to Cor, still smiling.

Cor has always been Gladio’s true north, his guiding light in the darkness, as constant as the sun and as reliable as the moon. Gladio keeps telling himself he’ll put it into better words someday, but for now, in this moment, with Cor stretched out on the spongy grass beside him, he’s content to use the language they’ve always been fluent in. 

Cor takes Gladio’s hand, pulls himself up, and then they walk back home together, side by side, clad in nothing but the shimmering, brilliant light of the moon.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! <3 Comments and kudos are appreciated if you enjoyed.
> 
> For more yelling about Cordio, come find us elsewhere on the internet — roadsoftrial ([Tumblr](https://thelegendarynoctgar.tumblr.com/)/[Twitter](https://twitter.com/RoadsOfTrial)) and aliatori ([Tumblr](http://aliatori.tumblr.com/)/[Twitter](https://twitter.com/AliatoriEra)).


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